


Heat

by deripmaver



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blasphemy, Church Sex, Confessional Sex, Cunnilingus, Demon Katsuki Yuuri, Explicit Consent, Improper Use of a Rosary, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Lactation, Marathon Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Priest Kink, Priest Victor Nikiforov, Religion Kink, Religious Guilt, Semi-Public Sex, Temptation, Vaginal Sex, Virginity or Celibacy Kink, and yet still somehow, dude trust me, mild dubcon due to demonic shenanigans, not as bad as it sounds, now how does that work?, only a bit though this isnt the cow fic here, read on to find out........
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24719068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deripmaver/pseuds/deripmaver
Summary: Brothers of the cloth must work through their heats without temptation - it's part of the burden they bear in service to God. This time, though, the temptation Priest Victor Nikiforov faces is more powerful than most.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 16
Kudos: 205





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> oh yeah i am BACK ON MY BULLSHIT
> 
> i don't know anything about church hierarchy so dont @ me if something seems wrong

Victor groans, hands coming up to cup his chest as he stares at himself in the mirror. He’s alone, having taken an afternoon nap due to what he told Father Yakov was a slight fever, and the lush blooming flowers and large, gothic-arched windows of the rectory dissipate his heady, thick scent.

The sound of chanted hymns echoes up from the cathedral proper, echoing along the stone walls, filling his head with a fuzzy, guilty sort of feeling and his stomach with open dread.

His body aches, and Victor whimpers, massaging his chest and pressing his thighs together – the chanting seems to come from the statues just outside his window, watching his heat-flushed body writhe and convulse.

He glides one hand over his swollen breast, hissing as his finger touches his puffy nipple. When he releases it, his tit falls heavily, the flesh flushed and jiggling. A drop of milk beads up at the tip of his nipple, his breast throbbing at being disturbed.

Victor whimpers, fingers curling and uncurling, desperate to squeeze his pink buds and let the milk drip out. Instead, he brings a tissue up to dab at his breast, swallowing his whimper as his milk dampens it, coating it with a rich, creamy scent that makes Victor want to weep with guilt.

He’s slick between his thighs, his clit pink, hard enough that it pokes out from the top of his folds. His thighs make slick, sticky sounds as he rubs them back and forth, trying to ignore the throbbing need dripping out of him and onto his legs.

Sometimes, Victor wonders if he’s internalizing his church’s liturgy on omegas too much. There’s something about being surrounded by alphas and hearing the way they talk about omega heats, omega’s bodies, omegas that makes him feel unbelievably dirty.

He’s been the only omega priest for a few years now, the first in this church. The liturgy speaks of the sin of heats, how God punished the first omegas to suffer in temptation until they could be completed by an alpha at marriage. Victor will never be married, now, and instead suffers his heats in silent penance, dreaming of cocks inside him and come splattering sloppily against his soaked walls.

Feeling unbelievably dirty just makes his pussy throb harder, as if his body is mocking him, saying yes, you want to be filthy don’t you?

He could get himself off just once, couldn’t he? His fingers inch towards his folds, dripping and pink, ready to be nudged apart to reveal his twitching hole and clit, like sweet nectar at the center of soft, velvet petals.

Victor clenches his fingers in the thatch of silver curls above his folds, wincing at the pinching pain as he tugs on them just a bit too hard. No, no. If he starts he won’t be able to stop. His tits jiggle as he shivers, full bodied, a cool breeze wafting in from outside along with the hymns. They’re dripping again, and Victor watches the droplets of milk tumble from his stiff nipples and onto the wooden floor below.

His cassock lies heavy, draped over the edge of his bed. The thought of wearing it makes him want to weep, the heavy fabric draped over his overheated body. He has to, though, because it’s his duty to continue working during his heats, to show himself above temptation just as alpha priests must during their ruts.

Victor grits his teeth and whimpers as he slides the coat of the cassock on over his hypersensitive flesh. He can’t bear to wear pants or panties, and his bare cunt clenches and gushes slick underneath the heavy coat. His hands and legs tremble as he slides long socks over his calves and slips into his boots.

Just once… He could just once…

The cassock is so tight against his swollen chest. His tits feel like they’re being pressed back into his chest, and the rough fabric scrapes at his puffy, leaking nipples.

There’s a knock at the door.

Victor nearly shrieks. He quickly sprays scent neutralizer all throughout the room, making sure to spray it underneath his coat as well.

Father Yakov is at the door, looking flustered. Victor rearranges his face into the easy, unconcerned mask he always wears around the alphas, his fellow priests. He nods his head forward, murmuring, “Yakov?”

“Evening services are over, Vitya,” he says uncertainly, “Are you feeling better, or would you like someone else to take over Confession?”

Victor shakes his head, smiling tiredly. “It’s alright. I think I can manage a few hours before bed.”

It’s cool in the confession chamber, and there should be nothing more boring and libido shrinking than listening to old alphas describe lusting after their secretaries. He sighs and steps out of the room, closing it gingerly behind him, and follows Yakov down.

“Oh! Father Nikiforov.”

Victor’s heart begins to pound in his chest. Yakov nods and moves on, not seeing the panic in his eyes as he turns to Yuuri Katsuki with a plastered-on grin that looks slightly manic.

Yuuri dips his head, biting his lip nervously. He holds out a tupperware in Victor’s direction, blushing. His lips are a full, plump pink, with little marks from being bitten, from nerves or something else Victor can’t tell. His lashes flutter, dark and alluring, above his amber eyes.

Victor can’t smell anything on him. He’s never known if Yuuri was an alpha, beta, omega – it’s typical, for the church, that all scents are blocked, lest the pheromones distract from praising god. He takes the tupperware, smiling softly, and for a brief moment their fingers brush.

Slick drips out of him, and Victor can’t quite stifle his whimper at the electric pulse that shoots through him.

Yuuri’s eyes flash for a moment – and Victor freezes, fear replacing the arousal almost instantly. The moment passes, though, and Yuuri says in a sultry tone, “Kaasan made these for you. We heard you were sick, Father, and I was so worried when you missed services. I’m glad to see you, though. You look well, if a little flushed. Warm.”

Victor swallows thickly. He manages a shaky smile and replies, “I’ve been feeling a little feverish, but nothing serious. I’ll be fine in a few days, I’m sure.”

Yuuri bats his eyes up at him. “I hope so. If there’s anything I can do, please…” He trails off – then, without warning, turns abruptly and stalks off, looking strangely rigid.

Victor sighs and makes his way to the confession booth, stopping to drop off the tupperware of pastries in the kitchen on the way.

* * *

Someone slips into the confession booth. Their scent is thick, heady, like perfumed flowers in a greenhouse. Victor inhales shakily – he can’t move away in his little chamber, cramped and claustrophobic. All he can do is let the scent wash over him, hit the back of his throat, and light his own swollen scent glands on fire. He moans, muffling it behind his hand, and lets his legs spread just a bit as his pussy starts throbbing anew. Heat-milk dribbles continuously from his tits, and already there’s a penny-sized wet spot forming at the front of his cassock. These outfits aren’t mean to accommodate swelling breasts during heats, and Victor feels them squeezed hard by the stiff fabric.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” Victor hears, and he stifles a gasp behind his hand.

 _Yuuri_. Victor swallows, remembering how the slight shine to his lips glinted under the warm lighting in the corridor, the way his pink cheeks flushed further when he saw Victor. Yuuri never comes to confession – what could he have to confess?

“I cannot help but think lustfully about an omega,” Yuuri continues.

His voice is sultry. It sounds different than usual, somehow, but Victor knows it’s him. Maybe it’s just because he’s so used to Yuuri’s soft, shy tone during services – he’s never seen him in the throes of guilt at confession.

Yuuri’s voice is thick with it, with his confession, and Yuuri continues, “I want to touch him. I think of running my fingers through his hair, gripping it hard to pull his head back and expose his scent gland. I want to press my tongue to his throat and lap at it until it’s red and swollen and he’s mad with lust.”

Has Victor’s cassock always been so tight, so warm around his chest? He breathes in, gripping his chest, feeling slick drip out of his naked pussy and onto the back of his robes.

Yuuri’s voice drops to a whisper, and Victor swears he feels his warm breath from behind the screen, “I think about him naked. It’s sinful, the way I think about his body. I picture his pale skin marked with my mouth, I picture the sheen of sweat across his brow, I picture those little purple bruises on the inside of his thighs as he spreads his legs just for me.”

Victor’s legs spread involuntarily, Yuuri’s scent coming through even thicker. His hand is clamped firmly over his mouth now, as each low pop of Yuuri’s lips over each individual letter making his body burn. His cassock is damp, not just with the milk leaking from his breasts, but from the sweat all over his body and the slick between his thighs.

Yuuri is pressed right up against the divider on the confession booth, so close that Victor can see the shine on his lips.

“Please,” Victor whispers to himself, feeling his cassock drape between his legs and touch his heat-swollen folds. He’s so, so hot. If he has to stay another moment without relief he might pass out.

“I wonder what he looks like down there,” Yuuri murmurs, “I’ve heard that the color of your cunt is the same as the color of your lips. I stare at his lips so often, I know their exact shade of pink. Is that what I’d find if I opened him up?”

The word _cunt_ coming out of Yuuri’s mouth makes Victor bite down hard against his lip, tears springing to his eyes. He tosses his head back. Yuuri’s voice, so soft and kind, saying such a filthy word sets Victor’s body alight like nothing else. It’s almost hypnotic, the way his hand moves, as Yuuri’s voice washes over him. The fabric makes an agonizingly loud shifting noise as Victor brings it up over his knees, then his trembling thighs, exposing his own pink pussy to the cramped confessional walls.

He can’t do this, he can’t! Yuuri needs to confess to him, it’s his duty as a priest never to give in to temptation during his heat - but god, his voice, the way Yuuri’s lips curl around his words. He can’t help but imagine Yuuri’s lips close to his own folds, breathing the word _cunt_ against his thighs before prying him apart with his tongue.

“I want to fuck him,” Yuuri breathes, and Victor sobs behind his hand as his finger slips between his labia, feeling his innermost folds soaked with slick. Has he ever been this wet in his life? “I want to fuck his tight, virgin hole. I know he’s a virgin. I just imagine him clenching around me as I take him for the first time in his life.”

Victor’s cheeks are very hot as he touches his clit. He’s a virgin himself, of course he is! He hadn’t had sex as a teenager before deciding to take up the cloth. He thinks about it sometimes, though, what it would be like for someone to fuck him, how tight he’d be around them. He’s hardly even put toys inside himself, content to just use his clit to get himself off.

He’d be so tight, wouldn’t he? Victor whimpers, bringing his fingers in slow, teasing circles around his twitching clit, feeling the already swollen bud grow as he does. Pleasure surges through him, an intense spark of something coming right from that sensitive bundle of nerves. Sometimes, he puts his fingers inside himself, feels his walls stretch and clench. It makes him nervous – him, twenty seven years old, still a virgin because he’s chosen a life of celibacy, nervous about being fucked like some kind of high schooler!

“I’d make sure to go slow, to let him adjust to my cock, and I’d wait there until he begged me to move, to fuck his tight, virgin cunt.”

There it is again, that word, coming from Yuuri’s soft, pink lips. Victor whimpers, stroking his clit faster, taking the fat bud between his two fingers and rubbing them up and down through his slick, velvet folds until he sees stars. Oh, fuck, Victor thinks, I’m going to come, I’m in heat and I’m going to come-

“Sometimes, I think about taking him in front of everyone. Marking him. Claiming him. I’ll lift up his holy robes in front of the entire congregation so they see he’s mine, I’ll bend him over the altar and let him beg for me.” Victor freezes, suddenly going very cold. “He’ll say it’s a sin for him to feel so much pleasure, so I’ll make him feel more. I’ll massage his clit until he’s sobbing and I’ll fill him with my seed, letting everyone watch as it drips out of him, and he’s completely defiled right on the altar to his god.”

Victor’s frozen in fear, hands still in his folds, still covering his trembling mouth. There’s the click of the door closing, the shuffling of footsteps, and suddenly Victor finds the door to his side of the booth wrenched open by someone with surprising strength.

His cassock is still ruched up around his hips, his folds still exposed with his fingers between them. Victor’s eyes go very, very wide as he sees Yuuri staring down at him, lips pursed in a smirk that’s almost frightening.

There’s an aura about him that chills Victor to the bone, and his first instinct isn’t to cover himself, it’s to press back against the wall of the booth and away from Yuuri’s intense, shimmering gaze. Has Yuuri always had that look in his eye? The hungry one, that makes him look like he wants to devour Victor, body and soul?

“Yuuri,” Victor murmurs, almost pleading.

Yuuri steps forward and kisses him.

Victor whimpers as he sinks into Yuuri’s embrace, overwhelmed by the heat of his lips. He’s painfully aware of his bare lower half, because it tingles with need as Yuuri’s teeth tug on his lower lip, as his mouth presses to his, warm and wet.

Yuuri’s fingers spread teasingly over his slick labia, dipping between them to touch his slick, plush walls, and Victor yelps.

“Yuuri,” Victor gasps, body arching. “W-wait, I can’t-”

Yuuri’s hands stop moving, and Victor’s body _burns_ for it.

“Please,” Victor whispers.

“I’ve stopped,” Yuuri murmurs against his mouth. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“I,” Victor stammers, hips trembling, Yuuri’s fingers so hot in his pussy. “I can’t, temptation-”

“It’s not fair, is it?” Yuuri murmurs, lips quirking into a pout. Victor can’t stop staring at them, how plump they are. “How they punish your body for behaving in a natural way. They make you suffer just for being born as an omega.”

“It’s my duty to resist,” Victor pleads, even as his hips jolt forward, trying to force Yuuri’s fingers in deeper. “Just as alphas do during their ruts-”

Yuuri leans in again, his lips hovering right over Victor’s swollen scent gland. His tongue darts out, but he doesn’t touch it, and Victor sobs. He wants Yuuri to suck his scent gland, he wants Yuuri to fuck him with his fingers until he comes, screaming, all over his hand. He’s suffered through endless heats alone, touching himself and wracked with guilt about fulfilling his own basic needs.

Then, Yuuri kneels before his spread legs, pulling his fingers out and licking his lips. Victor whimpers and covers his dripping pussy, intoxicated by the hungry look in Yuuri’s eyes.

“Tell me to leave,” Yuuri says, breath hot against the back of Victor’s hand. If they weren’t covering him, Victor imagines he would feel the hot puff of air against his folds. “Tell me to leave, and I’ll let you manage your heat alone.”

Victor doesn’t.

Victor can’t.

The thought of another long, lonely heat, surrounded by nothing but starched sheets-

Yuuri grins wickedly. “It doesn’t count as breaking your vows if I don’t fuck you, right?”

Disappointment churns in Victor’s gut, his pussy clenches as he realizes he won’t be filled. If what Yuuri says is true, though… If it really won’t count…

He nods, shakily.

Yuuri’s eyes flash. “Say it.”

Victor swallows. “I-if you just put your mouth… If you just use your mouth, it’s okay, right? It has to be okay.”

“What do you want?” Yuuri growls.

“I want,” Victor sobs, “I want you to put your mouth on me. I want you to use your tongue to make me come.”

Yuuri’s grin is wolfish – so strange on his soft, round face that it nearly makes Victor pause – but before he can say anything Yuuri is pushing aside his hands, spreading his labia, and suddenly Yuuri’s tongue is lapping a wet stripe along his swollen clit.

Victor shrieks, then claps his hand over his mouth to prevent the noises from echoing throughout the hall. Yuuri’s tongue laps up and down his clit, making teasing circles, while Yuuri’s fingers spread his labia apart.

“Good,” Victor babbles, “Oh, it feels so good, your tongue on me-”

Yuuri laughs, the sound vibrating against Victor’s skin. He laps one long, teasing stripe from Victor’s entrance, back up to his clit, where he swirls his tongue from side to side along the sensitive bud.

Victor’s never felt this before. Tears bead in his eyes from the wonderful, intense pleasure, so different than his own fingers. Yuuri’s tongue is so hot and wet, applying the perfect amount of pressure to his hypersensitive clit – all the nights he’s dreamed of someone’s mouth on his clit, suckling at it, laving their tongue all over it until he’s sobbing, and he could never even begin to imagine the real thing.

“Tell me how you want it,” Yuuri moans, spreading his trembling labia even wider.

“I want your tongue on my clit,” Victor manages, tears beading in his eyes. His words echo all throughout the stone chapel. Yuuri licks him, sucks on his clit, presses his tongue just _so_ until Victor sees stars. “Yes! Yes, just like that, keep moving your tongue like that. S-spread me wider so I can feel it more, please, please-”

It’s humiliating, the way Yuuri is making him beg like this. Beg for his tongue to lap against his clit, beg for his fingers to pull apart his folds, revealing the flushed, pink interior of his pussy. He took a vow of celibacy, and now he’s begging for Yuuri to see, to touch, to taste his pussy like some kind of whore, and the worst part is how much he _loves_ it.

Yuuri does so. He spreads his labia wide, taking a moment with his fingers to nudge Victor’s clit out of it’s sensitive hood, until the little bud peeks out, completely exposed. Victor’s pussy clenches and contracts as Yuuri continues to push the hood back, revealing his clit, pink and glistening with slick and spit.

“Beautiful,” Yuuri murmurs, and sucks on the exposed, naked bud with all his strength.

Victor _howls_. It’s so sensitive, so sensitive it almost hurts. Yuuri laps directly, mercilessly against his bare clit until Victor can do nothing but sob and shudder at his wet tongue against him.

Can this really be wrong, Victor thinks, panting, sobbing at the sweet sensation of Yuuri’s hot tongue against his clit. Can it really be wrong when it feels so good?

Victor is so, so hot, flushed even beyond his heat. He whimpers and mewls, hips trembling, cassock still bunched around his hips. Yuuri is eating him out in the confession booth, and the sheer sinfulness of it makes his arousal so much more intense.

“I’m close,” Victor gasps, “I’m so close, please, I want to come. Please, make me come with your tongue, Yuuri.”

Yuuri grins and fucks him harder with his tongue, the flat of it pressed flush with his swollen, throbbing clit. If Victor looks down, he can see the pink bud moving with each lap, each swirl of Yuuri’s tongue, can see Yuuri’s eyes screwed shut in concentration and his tongue moving between Victor’s spread folds.

It’s so lewd, so hot, and Victor sobs as he feels that familiar feeling in his hips, the intense, burning pressure.

“I’m going to come,” he sobs, “I’m going to, I’m so close, please, don’t stop-”

Yuuri’s tongue is warmer, better than anything Victor could have imagined. He flicks it skillfully in a way that has Victor sobbing, and as the pressure builds he tosses his head back against the confession booth wall with a sob.

“I’m coming,” Victor wails, “I’m coming, Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri-”

The pressure releases, and Victor’s eyes squeeze shut, whole body shaking and convulsing. The whole time, Yuuri continues his merciless ministrations against Victor’s sensitive clit, massaging it all over to draw out Victor’s orgasm. He keeps licking it until Victor flops back, boneless, chest heaving and slick gushing out of him.

Victor’s pussy throbs, the echo of Yuuri’s tongue on him thrumming through his whole body. The heat’s reduced somewhat, but replacing it is a deep, aching _need_ , a desire to be fucked so strong it makes Victor’s head swim.

Yuuri laughs, wiping at his chin and lips. He leans in close, lips inches from Victor’s and Victor wonders in half-horror half-arousal if Yuuri means to kiss him.

“They really are the same color,” he says, softly, and then he turns to leave.

“Wait!” Victor gasps, before he can stop himself.

Yuuri turns, amused. His eyes flash, and once again Victor takes pause, unused to this expression on Yuuri’s soft, innocent face.

“I,” Victor stammers.

“Yes?” Yuuri asks, darkly teasing.

“I’m so hot,” Victor tries, tears beading in his eyes. He knows what Yuuri will say to him. He knows what he wants, what he _needs_. His body and mind are begging him for more, the thought of going back to his room and riding out the rest of his heat alone makes him want to weep.

He knows what Yuuri will say to him.

“What do you want from me?” Yuuri teases, “You have to say it.”

“I want,” Victor gasps, chest heaving, “I want…”

Yuuri _tsks_ and turns around. Despair fills Victor, his body screaming for satisfaction.

“ _Wait_ ,” Victor pleads, pushing himself out of the booth, sinking to his knees by Yuuri’s feet. Slick drips out of him and onto the floor below, thought the cassock now covers his bare lower half. “Wait, please. Yuuri, fuck me, _please_.”

Yuuri’s smile is slow, devilish. “Is that what you want? I need to hear what you want.”

Victor sobs, “Please, Yuuri. I want you to fuck me. I want you to put your cock in me.”

“More,” Yuuri murmurs, turning back to him.

“ _Please_ ,” Victor begs, sinking down so that his pussy slides against the slick leather of Yuuri’s shoe. He pushes his hips down against it, forward and back, sobbing at the cool leather against his hot clit and folds. When Yuuri angles his foot up so that the arch has better contact, Victor sobs and nuzzles his face against Yuuri’s thigh. “Please. You know I’m a virgin. I never knew how good this could be. I know I’ll be so tight and wet, clenching around your cock. I know how much I _need_ it. I-I’ve never, I’ll be so tight, so please fuck me. Fuck me until I scream.”

Yuuri begins to move his foot in time with Victor’s hips. Victor whimpers and rides it enthusiastically, soaking the leather with slick, desperate for Yuuri to see how much he wants it.

“I want to fuck you,” Yuuri murmurs. “I want to take your holy virginity. I want to be with you for the rest of your heat, I want to make you feel pleasure over and over again until you realize you can’t live without it.”

“Yes,” Victor gasps, desperate, “Yes, please. I’ll give you my body. I want you to show me what I’ve been missing. I want, I _need_ you to fuck me.”

Yuuri grins. Victor sobs when he pulls his foot away, but suddenly Yuuri is pushing him to the ground with surprising strength, suddenly Yuuri _rips_ the cassock from Victor’s body.

Victor’s eyes go wide as the cold chapel air hits him, his swollen tits bouncing slightly at the sudden movement. The cassock is made of thick, sturdy fabric – and Yuuri ripped it off of him like it was made of tissue paper. The sensations are overwhelming, the sudden coolness of the floor, the burning arousal, and the slight thrill of fear as he lies naked, completely exposed and vulnerable, on the chapel floor.

Yuuri leans over him and cups one of his breasts, swirling one nipple around in a circle. Victor whimpers, paralyzed, more aroused than he’s ever been in his life.

“You grow tits during your heat?” Yuuri says, “Lucky. We can have even more fun that way.”

Victor swallows as Yuuri leans back.

“Play with yourself,” Yuuri commands, “While I undress.”

Victor obeys readily, lying with his back on the floor. He spreads his legs before Yuuri’s hungry gaze, kicking off his shoes, and making sure his pussy is exposed. His knees are by his ears, and with trembling hands, he brings his fingers down to spread his labia apart one more time. His other hand cups his swollen breast, and he brings his mouth down to one soaked nipple, taking it between his teeth and nibbling gently.

“Yuuri,” he moans into his own breast, making sure Yuuri can see his clenching hole, “Yuuri, please.”

He slips two fingers between his folds, feeling how soaked he is there, searching gently for his twitching entrance. They go in easy, he’s so aroused. He feels his walls contract around his slender fingers, and he gently begins curling them in and out of him, the palm of his hand hot against his clit as he does so.

Victor moans, still lapping at his nipple, watching Yuuri undress painfully slowly. His body is pale, slender, with just the barest hint of pudge at his middle. His eyes haven’t left Victor’s body for an instant.

He’s about to lose his virginity on the cold chapel floor, naked, moaning, and writhing in heat – and he somehow can’t bring himself to feel guilty. His fingers are delicious inside of himself, and he fingers himself harder, as though that will make Yuuri undress even faster.

“Victor,” Yuuri moans, finally sliding his panties off, so he stands bare and naked in the chapel.

Victor’s eyes widen. “You’re an omega?”

Between Yuuri’s legs is a thick thatch of black hair and two plump, swollen lips, with the inner labia peeking out from between them. He spreads his thighs, his thick, rippling thighs, and his inner folds tremble as he brings his fingers to them, stroking them teasingly. He spreads his folds to reveal his own swollen clit, pink, trembling.

“I am,” Yuuri purrs, “But don’t worry.”

Before Victor’s eyes, Yuuri’s clit grows, thickens, and stiffens until it stands tall against his tummy. Victor’s eyes widen, his whole body frozen in horror and arousal as he watches – there’s nothing natural about that, about Yuuri’s clit growing and thickening like a cock, until it’s as thick and heavy as one, while his pussy continues to drip slick behind it.

“Y-Yuuri?” Victor squeaks, “W-what’s-”

“Sh,” Yuuri hushes him, kneeling down to caress Victor’s hand, to gently push it forward and back so Victor fingers himself. “Sh. You still want me to fuck you, don’t you? I’ll do that for you if you want.”

“Yes,” Victor gasps, writhing, “Yes.”

Yuuri’s eyes look red in the low light, two points in his raven hair seeming sharper than the others.

Victor swallows. His pussy clenches around his fingers, whole body alight with need. _What have I gotten myself into_? He thinks.

Yuuri tugs Victor’s fingers out of his pussy, maneuvering his arm like a puppet. He presses Victor’s fingers to his own lips and murmurs, “Suck on them.”

Victor whimpers. He opens his mouth and takes his slick-soaked fingers between his lips, eyes wide and shocked. His tongue laps out, tasting his own slick, musky and thick, and he sucks dutifully on his fingers while Yuuri leans over him.

“I’m going to do something that’ll make this feel so good,” Yuuri murmurs. He pulls out two plastic clothespins, and Victor stares at them curiously, still suckling on his own fingers.

He’s not sure what Yuuri intends, until Yuuri closes one end of the clothespin onto one of his labia, then does the same on the other side. Victor’s eyes go wide as there’s the sound of crinkling tape, and suddenly his folds are spread so wide, revealing everything between them - the slick, flushed flesh, his twitching clit. Yuuri tapes the clothespins to the meat of his thigh, and he settles back, staring at Victor’s exposed pussy hungrily.

Victor sucks feverishly on his fingers, eyes glazed with lust. He’s even more vulnerable like this, without the protection of his folds over his twitching entrance and clit. His clit twitches, thrusting forward and back as he clenches and unclenches his hips, and lust courses through him as he imagines all the things Yuuri could do to him. He’s never been more exposed, more vulnerable, the cool air of the chapel hitting his slick inner folds, and suddenly Victor feels the gaze of all the saints, the statues, all staring at his most intimate parts, twitching and desperate to be touched. They’ll see directly as Yuuri touches his clit, they’ll see it twitch and jolt and harden, they’ll see Yuuri’s cock as it enters his virgin body-

There’s a sharp, hard presence right by his entrance, and Victor’s body thrums in anticipation.

Yuuri’s eyes seem even redder now, lit with some unseen energy.

“Tell me one more time,” Yuuri murmurs, “what you want.”

Victor moves to take his fingers out of his mouth, but Yuuri holds his wrist in place.

His fingers muffle his words, but he tries his best to force out, “Fuck me, Yuuri. Put your cock in me, take my virginity, ruin my vow of chastity.”

Yuuri grins again, in a way that Victor is both aroused by and afraid of, and pushes in.

Victor moans, tossing his head back. Yuuri’s cock – cock? - is thick, making wet, squelching sounds as it slides into him. The stretch aches, but it’s a delicious kind of burn, the same burn as when he’d stretch intensively in his younger days as a skater.

It feels so, so good. Victor suckles on his fingers hungrily, eyes rolling back as Yuuri pulls back and _thrusts_ back in. His cock scrapes deliciously against the ridges of Victor’s walls, his pussy clenches down to keep Yuuri inside him. His legs wrap around Yuuri’s lower back, pulling him in closer, closer.

Yuuri bends over, his red eyes shining, and begins to fuck Victor in earnest.

Victor sobs, fingers soaked with saliva, drool dripping down his chin. He could never imagine being fucked felt so good. Why have they kept this from him? Cruel, cruel church, telling him to resist temptation, when being fucked feels like delicious agony, when a cock inside him is fulfilling his deepest needs in a way God never could!

Yuuri grabs Victor’s tits and squeezes. Victor cries out desperately, milk gushing out as Yuuri squeezes him.

He’s never been allowed this, been allowed relief from the constant ache of his tits. It feels so good, milk dripping from his nipple, relieving the pressure that the cassock had only made worse. His body has never been so satisfied in his life.

His pussy makes lewd, slick noises, as though he’s trying to suck Yuuri into him.

“Touch yourself,” Yuuri murmurs, “Touch your clit.”

Victor whimpers. He takes his fingers from his mouth and brings them to his clit, feeling, hearing the wet slap of Yuuri’s cock inside him. His clit is hard, poking out from underneath its hood, partially pulled back from the stretch of the clothespin holding his folds open, and when Victor touches it his pussy clenches and flutters in a way that makes Yuuri moan and jolt, shifting his hips to fuck Victor harder, deeper.

Yuuri shoves his fingers in Victor’s mouth now, and Victor’s eyes shoot open wide. His fingers press hard against Victor’s tongue, his soft palate, forcing more saliva out of the corners of Victor’s mouth until he’s drooling helplessly, suckling on Yuuri’s fingers as Yuuri fucks him hard.

His walls are sensitive, tender – the constant pounding against them is so unfamiliar it makes his toes curl, his back arch off the ground. He plays with his own clit just how he likes, lost in the sensations in his body. His pussy clenches occasionally, and each time it does, Yuuri moans and changes angle to fuck him harder.

“I think I’m going to come,” Victor tries to say, but Yuuri’s fingers are still in his mouth. He whimpers and jolts, trying to show Yuuri with his body how close he is. His tits bounce with each thrust, a slow flow of milk dripping down to the floor from them, his fingers on his clit moving in circles just like Yuuri’s tongue had.

He’d never paid much attention to it before, just moving his hands until he felt something, but he tries to touch his clit in new ways he learned from watching Yuuri’s tongue. If he moves just so, it feels so much more intense, like he’s touching the bud directly, like Yuuri had when he coaxed it out from underneath his hood.

“Mmph,” Victor mewls around Yuuri’s fingers, overwhelmed by the stinging slap of Yuuri’s hips against his with every thrust, by the feeling of his own fingers touching him. It’s so different, coming with something inside of him, fucking him until his whole body is shaking with the force of it, and Victor sobs as he feels the familiar building pressure inside of him. “Mmph, _mmph-_ ”

His clit becomes even more sensitive, the way he touches himself how Yuuri touched him with his tongue sending jolts of pleasure like he’s never felt before, not even during his heats. He never wants to stop touching it, touching the sensitive little bud, wants to spend the rest of his life with someone caressing it and fucking his flushed, wet pussy, his folds spread so that everyone can see how red and puffy he gets with arousal.

Yuuri presses his fingers further back and his cock inside of him so deep that Victor wonders, irrationally, if his fingers and cock might touch somewhere in his belly – and that sends him over the edge, sobbing as he rubs his clit faster and faster, tears falling from his eyes and drool from his lips. His whole body trembles and convulses, and he feels the clench and flutter of his walls so much more intensely now that they’re clamped down on Yuuri’s cock. He feels Yuuri twitch inside of him, and he rubs himself until he’s incoherent, a moaning, drooling mess of sensation.

When Victor stops writhing on Yuuri’s cock, he whimpers, his clit so sensitive that it’s almost painful to keep touching it.

“Don’t stop,” Yuuri hisses, still thrusting, and Victor realizes that Yuuri hasn’t come. His eyes widen and he whimpers, letting the pounding of his heartbeat and the steady slap of Yuuri’s thrusts wash over him. His hands twitch, and he brings one finger down to nudge his still exposed, swollen clit.

He sobs and shudders at the feeling. Oh, god, it’s so sharp, so intense. His nerves are on fire from coming twice, his clit twitching, swollen, and still so hard he can feel it throbbing between his folds.

“Keep touching yourself,” Yuuri croons, and a strangely hypnotic lull washes over Victor. His hands move towards his clit again, stroking it gently, and even the lightest touch is enough to send Victor writhing and whimpering.

Yuuri pulls his fingers from Victor’s mouth with a wet _pop_ , and Victor groans as strands of saliva fall back onto his swollen lips. His mouth is so wet and sticky, and he babbles, “Y-yuuri, it’s so sensitive, I d-don’t know if I can-”

“It’ll feel good again,” Yuuri promises, and there’s something so reassuring in his gaze that it makes Victor want to weep. “I promise. I want to see how many orgasms I can wring out of you, I want to show you the heights of pleasure I can bring your body to.”

He reaches down to touch Victor’s clit alongside Victor’s own fingers, stroking one side, then the other, just barely avoiding touching it directly. Then, he moves up the sticky inner folds, fingers almost analytical, nudging them to the side.

Yuuri’s cock is still inside of him, Victor’s walls swollen and tender, but Victor can’t focus on that with Yuuri’s fingers rubbing against his puffy folds. Victor knows what Yuuri is going to do, knows Yuuri won’t give him any relief, wants to ring as much sensation from him as possible – he can tell by the way Yuuri plays with him, moving the sensitive skin to the side, and when Yuuri’s finger touches the hypersensitive bud directly, Victor _screams_.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Victor wails, as Yuuri mercilessly rubs his exposed clit, still swollen and tender from coming, “ _Yuuri,_ oh god, it’s so sensitive, please-”

Yuuri stuffs a bit of fabric into Victor’s mouth and his eyes shoot wide open. He tastes Yuuri’s scent at the back of his throat, even headier than before in the booth, and his tongue drags over ridges of elastic and lace. Victor groans, tossing his head back, Yuuri’s panties stuffed into his mouth and Yuuri’s fingers on his clit.

“Scream as loud as you want,” Yuuri coos, his touch so casual when he’s causing Victor to feel so much. “Scream when I’m making you feel good. Keep touching yourself, only stop touching yourself when you want me to stop fucking you.”

Victor seizes his own clit furiously, pushing Yuuri’s fingers out of the way. He rubs the bud until he sees stars, because he doesn’t want Yuuri to stop, he doesn’t want Yuuri to take his cock out of him, he wants more, more, more-

Yuuri moves him like a doll.

He’s on his side, the floor cold and hard, his leg hoisted over Yuuri’s shoulder while Yuuri pistons his cock into him. His folds are still spread wide, and he feels Yuuri’s unusual anatomy intimately, Yuuri’s own folds soft and slick against his inner labia as he fucks him. He can’t stop touching himself, his hand moving as though on its own, his clit aching and wonderful and so, so hard.

Yuuri’s cock seems to touch somewhere deep inside him, the sweet spot that makes his whole body shake. With Yuuri’s cock rubbing against it mercilessly, Yuuri’s folds soft, hot, wet against his own, Victor’s fingers on his abused, swollen clit, he’s coming, he’s coming-

Yuuri bends him over the pew, nudging his thighs apart. The pew presses sharply into his hips, but he can’t seem to mind, not when Yuuri’s cock is pounding into him, his walls swollen and tender from the unceasing abuse, his body wrung out with orgasms but unable to stop. He still rubs his clit, hand starting to cramp from the constant motion, the little bud poking out, so swollen he’s sure anyone would be able to see it.

He can’t hide his arousal, and he makes uneasy eye contact with the virgin mother as Yuuri fucks him. Victor’s body hangs over the pew, limp, wrung out, but Yuuri won’t stop, and Victor still wants to come. His clit is so sensitive – the sensation has stopped receding once Victor comes, it’s like delicious torture, his fingers like fire against his clit until suddenly he’s coming again with a cry, body trembling feebly. His tits swing and bounce, dripping down onto the pew, slick dripping down Victor’s thighs.

Mary watches him, watches his flesh jiggle, watches the way he angles his hips so his fingers rub his clit while Yuuri fucks him. Victor gasps around Yuuri’s panties, still in his mouth, and finds he likes it, he loves how he’s being defiled right in the chapel. Yuuri pulls him back, muscles tensing as he keeps fucking him from behind, and Victor shamelessly lifts one leg up onto the pew. His spread pussy faces the altar, clothespins still holding his folds apart, and all the saints can _see_ him, see his hole clench and contract on Yuuri’s cock, can see him touch his exposed clit.

He leans back against Yuuri’s firm chest, moaning into the panties still stuffed in his mouth, and realizes how far gone he is now.

Victor doesn’t know what he expected sucking cock to be like, but sucking Yuuri’s is strange and wonderful at the same time. It’s thick in his mouth, and Victor swirls his tongue around it, relishing the strange sensation. He knows what alpha cock looks like, and he suspects, somehow, that this is different – all of a sudden, the unnatural way Yuuri’s cock grew nearly eight inches right before Victor’s eyes sends a shudder through him – but he runs the flat of his tongue along the ridges and soft skin of it all the same.

Yuuri’s leaned over him, and Yuuri’s wet folds smear slick all over Victor’s face as he fucks him, Yuuri’s own twitching hole right before Victor’s eyes. Victor’s legs are spread wide, again, still caressing himself with the clothespins holding him open.

Yuuri teases him. He laughs in a not-quite-pleasant way, taking hold of a rosary with thick, glossy beads, and letting it dangle just barely against the inside of Victor’s folds. Victor whimpers, he sobs around Yuuri’s cock, guilt and humiliation writhing inside of him.

One smooth, cool bead slides up from Victor’s twitching entrance to his fingers, going in a gentle circle around Victor’s clit. Victor sobs – he can’t stop, he can’t, it feels so, so good.

Yuuri presses one rosary bead against Victor’s empty pussy and Victor nearly screams. He should make Yuuri stop, he should! God, letting Yuuri fuck his mouth, letting Yuuri put a rosary inside his pussy, all the while he teases his clit until he’s shaking – he can’t come back from this, can he?

If he lets Yuuri do this, he can never come back from it-

Yuuri slides the bead inside him, laughing as he fucks Victor’s mouth harder. Victor nearly comes on the spot, throat opening up as he lets Yuuri’s cock in deeper.

One bead goes in, then another, then another – Victor’s pussy clenches and twitches as each bead goes in, until the whole string is inside him, thick, curled, each bead pressing solidly against his walls.

Saliva drips down Victor’s cheeks, mingled in with the slick that drips from Yuuri’s twitching pussy and onto his face, his tongue laps harder at Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri pulls the beads out of him one by one, then pushes them back in, making wet, squelching sounds as his pussy pulls them inside. Only the cross is left outside of him, and Yuuri lets Victor writhe there for a moment, body so wonderfully defiled. Years, years he needed to go through seminary, and here he is, a rosary in his pussy and a cock in his mouth, sucking on them both like he’ll die without them.

They can see the beads going into him because his legs are spread, his pussy is spread, if there is a god above he’s surely watching his cunt swallow the beads like Victor swallows Yuuri’s cock.

Victor sobs, “I’m coming,” around Yuuri’s cock. He’s lost track of his orgasms, most from his clit, but some wrung out of his g-spot by Yuuri’s skillful fingers and cock. His fingers are so sticky with slick that they slip along his clit without properly touching, and he sobs as he curls his fingers into himself harder, pushes harder.

Yuuri leans down, the beads still curled inside of Victor, and laps at Victor’s clit. His tongue seems hotter than should be humanly possible, and Victor’s hands fall helplessly to his sides as Yuuri’s tongue licks at his abused clit. It’s so hot, it seems – seems longer than it should be? It laps out like a snake, wraps around Victor’s clit, and tugs.

Victor wails, his voice echoing in the chapel, his throat fluttering around Yuuri’s cock.

“I’m coming,” he sobs, “I’m coming, I’m-”

His body convulses, sending Yuuri’s cock even further back. It hits the back of his throat, but he doesn’t gag, and Yuuri’s tongue seems to surround his whole clit, massaging it, lapping at it, so hot Victor sees stars. He comes, and comes, and comes, his body thrumming with pleasure, his pussy twitching, and Yuuri tugs the rosary out of his pussy in one firm motion. His walls clench as each bead pops out of him, one after another after another, and suddenly Victor screams and arches, slick gushing out of him in a thick burst.

Yuuri laughs, drawing his tongue lazily along Victor’s clit, drawing out the last of his orgasm, the last bits of slick.

“Have you ever squirt before?” Yuuri teases, leaning back, pulling his cock out of Victor’s mouth.

Victor shakes his head.

Yuuri’s eyes flash. “Say it.”

_Say it._

Yuuri wants him to say how defiled he is, how far he’s fallen. His pussy, spread so wide, couldn’t stop any of the slick as it gushed out of him, puddled beneath him and covering the chapel floor.

“I’m done,” Victor pleads, “I c-can’t come anymore.”

His pussy flutters, empty, begging for _something_.

Yuuri stares at it, at his clit, twitching, trembling, swollen and red.

“If you say it,” he murmurs, “I’ll fill you with come.”

Victor’s mouth goes dry, he pants and heaves, legs spread wide. He’s come so many times, but he needs it. He needs Yuuri to come in him.

“Say it,” Yuuri says again, “Say that you’ve never squirt before.”

Victor covers his face with his hands, but Yuuri tugs them away, staring intently into Victor’s eyes. He caresses one bright red cheek, smiling softly.

“I’ve n-never squirt before,” Victor sniffles, “You’re the first person to make me squirt. I never could by myself, but your tongue, you u-using the b-beads,” He bites his lip and screws his eyes shut. “You using the beads in my pussy and you tonguing my clit made me squirt.”

Yuuri grins. Somehow, Victor can feel it behind his eyelids. When he opens his eyes, he sees Yuuri wrapping the rosary around his still stiff cock, and pressing his wrapped cock back to Victor’s entrance.

Victor falls back, bonelessly, humiliation making his arousal that much more intense. He can’t say anything, he’s been so thoroughly defiled, and now the final humiliation is the best, worst, Victor doesn’t know which. Yuuri slides his cock into Victor slowly, so much thicker with the beads around it. His pussy clenches on the beads, on Yuuri’s hard cock, and he groans loudly, willing his muscles to relax to accommodate the extra girth.

He feels each individual bead pressed hard against his walls, burning into him. It feels so, so good.

Yuuri pulls his cock back, and when he thrusts back in hard, Victor _screams._

Victor barely notices when Yuuri comes. His voice is hoarse from screaming, his wanton cries of desire echoing all throughout the cathedral. Suddenly, his walls are full of hot, thick liquid, burning him hotter than the stretch from Yuuri fucking him.

The beads bump against his passage as Yuuri pulls out, Victor whimpering, pussy clenching at each _pop_ of a bead being released. When Yuuri’s cock is fully unsheathed, cum gushes out of him, joining the pool of slick on the chapel floor.

Yuuri groans. The rosary falls from his rapidly softening cock to the floor, into the pool of cum, and Victor whimpers pitifully.

Yuuri’s cock shrinks. Victor’s eyes widen – he can hardly believe as Yuuri’s cock shrinks back, back, until it’s nothing more than an omega clit, pink between his plump lips. Victor looks at his face, suddenly ashen, at his eyes which no longer have the red glow.

When Victor reaches towards him, Yuuri collapses onto the floor.

* * *

Yuuri wakes with a jolt.

Victor turns towards him, Yuuri who is naked in his bed in the rectory, Yuuri who looks like he might be sick at any moment.

Victor flushes. He’s thought about the past few hours ever since he carried Yuuri up to his room, thought about the feeling of Yuuri’s tongue, Yuuri’s cock. He doesn’t feel hot anymore – in fact, he feels like sex with Yuuri has literally sucked the heat from him. His breasts are back to normal, his lower body doesn’t feel like it’s on fire – is that what sex does? Stops the heat in its tracks?

Why was he told he must suffer to be holy?

He’s even wearing clothes without issue, though not his cassock. He’ll have to figure out a lie for Yakov about that.

Yuuri goes pale. His eyes fill with tears and he says, “Father Nikiforov, I’m so, so sorry.”

Victor blinks. A pang of hurt hits him – that feels strangely like rejection. But why would he feel sad about being rejected? Would that not be a sign from God above that he wasn’t supposed to do _that_ , that he’s been given another chance? He gave into temptation, and now he’s being punished for it. He’s being punished because he can still feel Yuuri’s tongue on his clit, but he’ll never have that again.

What he says is, “Ah. Did you… Did you not enjoy having sex with me?”

Yuuri freezes. “What?”

“I suppose my inexperience might have caused some issues,” Victor continues, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “I didn’t think… I suppose I didn’t think it would make you regret…”

“Father Nikiforov!” Yuuri shouts, sinking to his knees before Victor. Oh, it’s a lovely sight, Yuuri naked, on the floor, smooth skin stretched as he bows forward, the curve of his plump ass right before Victor’s eyes. “Father, Victor, forgive me, I’ve kept it all a secret – I’m possessed by a succubus, and I was so ashamed, but now it’s hurt you…”

Victor stares, uncomprehending. Oh, doesn’t Yuuri calling him by his given name sound sweet?

 _A succubus?_ Victor feels confusion, then horror, and then – then, a deep sense of peace and euphoria washes over him.

“I understand,” he murmurs, half to himself. He’s nearly giddy with relief. “I understand that – that was a demon. It’s alright!”

Yuuri whimpers, still bowed in front of him, and Victor sinks to his knees to take him by the shoulders.

“It’s alright, Yuuri,” Victor says, a manic gleam in his eye. “That just means – it means I didn’t break my vows, not really! I was simply seduced by a demon! It’s fine, it’s all fine!”

Yuuri stammers, “W-what?”

Victor holds him close, heart hammering in his chest. He hadn’t liked it, hadn’t begged at every opportunity for more, for harder, for Yuuri to fuck him! It was all the demon, it must have been! He would never, never think, never feel-

Victor whimpers. He still feels Yuuri’s tongue against his pussy when he closes his eyes, still feels that wonderful warmth. It was the demon! The demon used its magic to make Victor’s clit feel so good, the demon worked its tongue just so against Victor’s dripping folds – he’s alright, he’s still saved, he’s…

He’s…

Victor looks down at Yuuri, teary eyed, on his knees. Yuuri only came once – no, not Yuuri, the demon!

Still, though. Still. Victor had never imagined that Yuuri had done that because he was possessed. Every lick, every touch, it all seemed so real. Victor frowns. Why does it hurt, now that he’s learned that it wasn’t real?

Yuuri sniffles. “I’ll tell Yakov right away. I can’t be allowed to hurt anyone else.”

“No!” Victor bursts out, unable to stop himself.

Yuuri stares at him, horrified. Victor winces. He hadn’t meant to yell, but if Yuuri tells Yakov, what would stop him from saying everything they did? Victor swallows – why would that matter, though, if it really was all the demon’s influence?

(There’s a part of him that recognizes that it wasn’t the demon, it was him, it was him begging for cock, it was him squirting as the demon pulled the rosary beads out of his pussy, one by one by one. It was all-)

Victor ignores that thought, hides it deep, deep inside himself, where no one can prize it out. He continues, soothingly, “There’s no need to trouble him with that! I’ll help you, Yuuri. I’ll help you all by myself. I know how deeply this secret has troubled you, and we can keep it a little longer, okay?”

Yuuri sniffles and nods. He looks so lost, so unsure. Victor really, truly does want to help him. He wraps his arms around Yuuri and rocks him, holds him close. His scent is heavy, the same rich, thick syrup that had so aroused Victor last night. It goes straight between Victor’s legs, and he squeezes his thighs together, hoping Yuuri hasn’t noticed.

“You’re really alright with what happened?” Yuuri whispers, as though he can scarcely believe it. “With what he – he did?”

Victor smiles gently. “Of course. In the faith, we’re trained for all kinds of situations like this. I don’t think any less of you.”

(He only wishes Yuuri enjoyed it as much as he did.

No, wait, what-)

Yuuri is so relieved he begins to weep. Victor wraps his arms around him again and holds him to his neck, letting the tears run out.

“It’s alright, Yuuri,” Victor murmurs, “It wasn’t you, it was the demon. We’ll fix this together. We’ll get the demon out of you, alright?”

It was the demon.

It wasn’t him.

Victor swallows.

Yuuri clenches his fists in the back of Victor’s sweater and whispers, hot against Victor’s scent gland, “Thank you, Father.”

**Author's Note:**

> and then they keep having sex with each other using the demon as an excuse to absolve them of their sexual repression and guilt until one day they have to face the facts: theyre horny
> 
> and the demon goes away somehow


End file.
